


Patina

by DarkMotherBread



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: HumanAU, M/M, Magic, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkMotherBread/pseuds/DarkMotherBread
Summary: The student Matthew visits the marketplace daily. Not just for peoplewatching, but also because a certain statue keeps pulling him back.When he meets some of his father's aquaintances by chance, said statue becomes even more of a focus for him.Is something about the legend around it true?Is this maybe the one piece, Matthew had been missing in his life so far?
Relationships: Canada/England (Hetalia), Canada/Ukraine (Hetalia) (mentioned), England/Canada (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia) (mentioned), Russia/America (Hetalia) (mentioned), mapletea - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First one so far, ladies and lads! Thought I'd keep the chapters sweet and short.  
> Based on a prompt where, if a certain statue is touched by their soulmate, they come to life.  
> But will that happen here?

Matthew sat down on his usual bench in the marketplace. As usual around this time of summer, Ottawa was buzzing with tourists prowling the premises. If that wasn't bad enough, he had a goddamn thesis to write for class, and already knew that he wasn't gonna get anything done in this heat.

With a sigh, he let his leather bag, or as Alfred called it, "manpurse" plop down on the seat beside him and studied the masses of people roaming the cobblestone. There were the regulars: sweet old ladys who made the best of their Friday afternoons by going shopping, young children playing around the springs and of course their parents, chattering with one another.

And then there were the tourists.

Most of them were alright, laughing and buying overprized souveniers, but not bothering anyone.

And then there was the kind of them that seemed to take pleasure in being a general nuisance.

Right in front of the Canadian was, what appeared to be the world's most obnoxious couple, yelling at people to get out of their photo shots and flinging their litter into the streets.

Surprisingly enough, before anyone could even say anything, their antics were interrupted by another tourist, judging from the foreign accent.

A tall, blond, strong looking young man, who approached the two troublemakers with an icy expression.

"Excuse me, Sir, Madam, I think we can all agree that we would prefer for you two to pull yourselves together a bit. We are all on vacation, and nobody appreciates you screaming around like a pair of banshees. This is not your backyard, but a public space, if I may remind you."

Matthew didn't catch anymore of the conversation, as the couple in question started nagging at the, obviously German, tourist now.

Matthew smiled at that. Of course a guy like that woud want to bring order into the situation.

Nevertheless he continued to keep an eye on the ordeal. Soon after, the German was joined by a much smaller and slimmer built, maroon haired Italian who tried to gently get the offending couple to leave his (probably) boyfriend in peace. After two minutes of meaningless attempts however, he too, began screaming in an honestly impressively loud and high pitched tone. His hands were flying with a velocity at some point, that Matthew couldn't follow.

The couple eventually fled, followed only by the sound of the concluding italian outburst and the soud of satisfied snickering from the crowd around them.

Matthew casually walked up to them. "Uh, hi! Thanks for your input there! we have those guys around here sometimes so, yeah, sorry about that but thanks alot for your help. I mean it."

The young Italian grinned at him, while the german bashedly turned his head. "Ve!~ It was nothing really! They were bothering us too, after all. And while Luddy has his way with words, it didn't seem to work this time, so I thought I'd step in, ya know?"

Both blonds nodded shortly as if to show their agreement to the statement.

"Nevertheless,-" the German interrupted, "Thank you for your appreciation. We originally just came here to look at the statue. the tourist pamphlet made it seem like a very popular attraction around here..." He looked around with an impressed expression, "It appears that it was right."

The Italian immediately focused on Matthew again. "Oh, I'm feliciano by the way! This is my fiancé, Ludwig!"

'Ludwig' looked immediately annoyed again. "How often have I told you not to just tell stangers your name?! Being friendly is nice and all, but think of your safety!"

"Well, if being a stranger is the problem." Matthew intervened "I better tell you my name as well. I'm Matthew Williams. Nice to meet you!"

Feliciano instantly grinned again after the German's scolding, the latter suddenly looked as if that name rang a bell, but before he could ask the Canadian anything, a very familiar voice rang out from behind them.

"Oh! Mattieu! Mattieu! Look here!" Francis came tumbling from the crowd, shirt in pristine condition, but his jacked slung casually over his shoulder, as if it would‘ve made him look any less intimidatingly fancy.

"I just-" he caught his breath "-saw you talking to myfriends over here and-" another breath, „-wanted to say hello!“

In that moment, recognition snapped into the German's eyes. "Francis?? But why, what- Wait, is HE your kid?" He stared pointedly at Matthew. "I knew that name sounded familiar. ‚Williams‘, that's the name of your-" "YES, yes, I know. No need to bring it up!" interrupted Francis with a grimace. His ex wife was the last thing he wanted to be reminded of right now.

"So anyway." the Frenchman inquired, "what brings you two lovebirds to Ottawa?"

Italy pointed silently at the old bronze statue on the other side of the marketplace. "Him. There was something about a legend in the guide, but i can't remember it..."

Francis took the silent invitation.

"Speaking of lovebirds, you two will probably not be interested in breaking it, but the legend in question speaks of a spell that befell this poor man and turned him into the statue he is today..."

He made a dramatic pause. When no questions from either of the foreigners emerged, he continued.

"You see, apparently there was once a beautiful young Englishman, who sailed here to continue his studies away from home. That was in the middle of the 18 hundreds by the by."

"Still doesn't explain why he got turned into bronze," the Italian piped up.

"Oui oui, I'm getting to it. He apparently found a lover somewhere here in Ottawa, who he loved unconditionally and would've died for. That love however was not supposed to last for their lifetime. Instead, his love ended up deadly sick, suffering from some disease no doctor had a cure for."

Feliciano gasped empathetically at that.

"When his partner finally died, in excruciating pain, the young Englishman despised his own life as well. He fled to this marketplace, cursing not only the sickness, but his heart and the feelings of love and unbearable pain it had brought forth, and swore to do anythig he needed to never feel such pain again.

It's said, the gods heard his pleas for numbness, stopped him from ending his life and fulfilled his wish in the only way they thought humane."

Ludwig pensively caressed his chin. "By, taking his humanity away?"

"Precisely." Answered Matthew. who knew the story just as well as his father, and continued on with it.

"But you see, the gods weren't so cruel to let him be stuck in there forever." He took a deep breath.

"If his soulmate is to take his hand in this new life with good intention, even while he's nothing but a statue, he shall awaken again. But not only that: the lover shall receive all meories from his past life, and live happily ever after with them. Isn't that sweet?" he concluded with a smile.

"So that's why you said we probably wouldn't want to try and break it..." murmured the German, vaguely into Francis' direction. "Feli and I alredy have eachother." With that statement, the coolness of his eyes seemed to fade for the first time, replaced by a warmth that was almost physically noticable, as he gazed down on the maroonet, who looked back just as fondly.

After a bunch of cooing over the pair, Francis eventually invited them for refreshments so he could formally introduce them to Matthew.


	2. Chapter 2

The student found out, that while Feliciano Vargas, a feisty Italian  ( as suspected ) , was in his last year of College just like him, Ludwig Beilschmidt, the German,  ( also as suspected ) had been an international junior colleague of Francis.

When the Frenchman had also introduced the Canadian as his son, only Feliciano was still surprised, or at least acted that way.

"So you're French, but Matthew's  C anadian--" he repeated for the second time, "-  and  his brother is AMERICAN??? That's so interesting!" He could seemingly be impressed by the simplest things.

"And my brother's boyfriend is Russian, and my ex girlfriend is Ukrainian...." He snickered. " I guess we have a lot of cultural diversity in our family."

With that, Matthew risked a  foreboding look at his wristwatch, and jumped up from his chair immediately.

"Dangit, I have to start my paper! Or my professor will  actually kill me  this time... " He shot an apologetic look to the guests who only nodded in understanding. Feliciano far more vigorous than Ludwig though.

As the Canadi a n spent  a few hours ove r the various tabs and his word document, the events of the day transpired anew in his head. When he revised the legend, alongside his conclusion for the holiday assignment, a wave of almost nausea hit him.

Damn, was he lonely. His brother always looked so happy with the giant Ivan, the silent but well-meaning exchange student, who decided to stay in the U.S. as a guest as long as possible.

Matthew's own last relationship had only quote unquote 'failed' because they b o th realized that the chemistry wasn't really there while they  still  both immensely enjoyed eachother's presence, and even stayed friends after the official breakup.

He visited that damn statue near every day, no matter the weather . As long as he could walk he had always somehow found himself standing before that admittedly, very handsome metallic man, the temptation of taking his hand almost unbearable. Nevertheless,  M atthew persisted. 

Sure, the thing made for a nice photo for those who di d n't see it everyday, but for him, taking that bronze hand meant admitting weakness, admitting lonel i ness, admitting that he'd rather fling himself off of the nearest cliff than li v e his life  alone like he did now-

A soft knock on the door ripped him from his dark thoughts. 

He jumped off of his bed, quickly opening the door to an exhausted looking Feliciano.

"So- um. We were going to leave now... Itw's *hic* it was very nice meeting you!" His smile was kinda loopsided.

"Looks like papa shared his wine cabinet, huh?"

That statement was meant for Ludwig who took the hint.

"Yup, I'm gonna get him back to the hot e l, don't worry." With a chuckle and half-smile he added "I'm still sober, after all."

With that, they were out of the door. Francis sat, slightly tilted to the side, in his armchair. 

He looked immensely satisfied with himself. As he heard is son approac h ing his gaze got stuck on the boy. "Finally taking a break from work?"

"Done." Was all Matthew answered. His father seemed suspicious of his tone though.

"Is something wrong, Mattieu? Anything you want to talk about? Are you hungry?"

The student looked towards his father, but slightly missed him, so that his stare went out of the window. "I'm okay. Just thinking about may b e taking a stroll to clear my head. Schoolwork sucks."

Francis was still eyeing him concernedly. "It's almost 1 1 pm. It's dark out, I really don't know where  y ou'd even be going at this hour!"

Nevertheless did Matthew end up leaving the house, keys in hand. More or less even with his father's  permission , who had resignatedly gone to bed and left Matthew to do what he thought was appropriate, as long as he stayed safe.

A few minutes later, the Canadian found himself at the same spot he had left hours ago. But now, the streets and places were empty, only passively illuminated by the nearby streetlamps. So instead of waiting and watching, Matthew postured himself right before the statue's pedestal.

There he stood. The young man, right hand stretched forward invitingly toward anyone who might want to test their luck. Eyes unseeing, yet somehow filled with a kind of sadness and wisdom, that Matthew had never seen in another living person.

Tentatively, he stretched his arm out, towards the statue.

This was abolutely stupid. The dumbest thing ever. He'd regret this in a moment.

His hand closed around the bronze one. A second passed. Then another.

Nothing had happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, I know, but there's more and I got kinda sentimental with this soooo-  
> Bear with me.

The anticlimactic coolness of the metal, the stiffness and smoothness of it broke something in Matthew.

He knew nothing would happen, but-

Something inside him just told him it should.

He was standing here, in the middle of the night, holding the hand of something- no someONE he inexplicably truly  _ loved _ . There was something so familiar about those bangs, falling loosely into his face, the noticable eyebrows....

Something inside him began to move. Not pleasently, but not painfully either. Like an old machine coming back to life.

Hot tears were running down his face now. He could accept the true reason now, why he had come here. He was lonely. He had been his entire life.

It was in no way jealousy of others. His family had always been by his side, it was the same with is friends, and even if his little brother Alfred hadn't been dating Ivan, and even if his relationship with Katya had worked out for longer he still would've been lonely.

Because he didn't crave just anyone, oh no. He wanted to wake up to that blond mop of hair next to him, hear him grumble about how it was "far too bloody early". He wanted that to hear that soft voice, singing folksongs in the kitchen while the aroma of fresh black tea slowly crept through every crevice of the salon. He wanted that person back, who had sat next to his deathbed all those years ago, crying and begging to whatever god's there were to "spare Matthew's life and just make him well again! Please! I can't live without him! Plea-"

As if struck by lightning, Matthew suddenly pulled is hand towards himself, still holding onto the limb before him, which had become suspiciously soft.

Then something crashed on top of him.


	4. Chapter 4

When he came to, which was thankfully only a few seconds later, the Canadian almost believed he had pulled the statue off of its pedestal.

Until he looked into the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen.

That monument had never had a plaque or anything of the kind, d i splaying the young man's name on it. Only a short rendition of the saga that surrounded him. Still did his name slip from Matthew's tong u e as if it was the only word he knew. "Arthur."

Arthur slowly opened his mouth, but  h e still needed a moment to get a sound out of it. "M-Matthew..."

Another moment of silence. Then suddenly, in the bat of an eye, their lips crashed together.

Arms snaked around the other's body, holding on as if their life depended on it.

The passionate reunion was only interrupted by Arthur's sobs and hiccups, during w h i c h he resorted to pressing his face into the nape of Matthew's neck. The latter was petrified with emotion, although most of them could've been  described as "exhuberant happiness". 

As Arthur's crying fit began to subside, Matthew cou l d feel him lifting one hand at a time for a while, before letting it return to rest on his back.

"What're you doing?" he inquired, still high on the afterglow of his extasy upon meeting his truly fated love.

"Inspecting." Came the answer from right behind his shoulder.

Arthur had taken on looking at his hands, which had remained unmoving for almost 200 years. Yet he still found it easy to bend them, nothing hurt. The only thing out of place that he felt, was his heart, heavy with love and relief and his head, light and dizzy with almost hysterical happiness.

Eventually, Matthew moved. While getting up from the cool cobblestone floor, he pulled Arthur with him. 

"Where will we go now?" Asked the latter, with a pensive look at the pedestal he had stood upon mere minutes ago.

"Home." And with that and the warmest, most honest smile he had had in a lifetime, did Matthew pull his beloved towards his house. "We have a lot to catch up on after all."

The next morning was a riot. As the first merchants went to take their place in the market, the statue‘s absence was immedialey noticed and reported. Who in God's name could've taken that statue? It was, by estimation, multiple hundred kilograms heavy and firmly bolted to the pedestal, which now stood empty.

The news were filled with the sensation as Francis went to catch up on the weather  report for the day.

He stood there, speechless, motionless and just as flabbergastered as everyone else had been.

Then Matthew strolled into the living room.

"Morning Papa, did you sleep well? Because I slept great!"

Francis managed to peel his eyes from the screen for the time being. "Eh? Oui... I was just, distracted right now... Did you hear? the statue from the marketplace has been stolen! The one we told Feli and Ludwig about just yesterdy! Can you believe it?!"

At that, the Canadian stopped dead in is tracks. Right. Having Arthur by his side had felt so natural that he'd forgotton about the confusing picture he'd left behind.

"Uuuh, about that-"

As if on cue, Arthur waddled into the room, wearing one of Matthews pyjamas which was obviouly quite a few sizes too big for him.

Francis watched the sight unfold, as the Eng l ishman kept waddeling all the way to his son, to give him a loving "Goodmorning!" and kiss on the cheek. 

The Frenchman squinted incredulously, before worriedly glancing back and forth between the boys.

Matthew only grinned. "As I was saying, about that-" he gestured towards the TV, "-Meet Arthur Kirkland, the ex-marketplace statue and love of my lives."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, folks! If you'd be so kind I'd appreciate some feedback! From kudos to comments everything's fine by me!  
> I might also link a smut extra, if you're interested!


End file.
